


Tradition

by Cephy



Category: Tales of the Abyss
Genre: Alternate Universe, Coming of Age, First Time, M/M, Revenge, Rituals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-27
Updated: 2010-07-27
Packaged: 2017-10-12 21:03:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/129045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cephy/pseuds/Cephy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[AU]  It's Luke's coming-of-age, and the village is celebrating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tradition

It was Luke's birthday, and the village was celebrating-- the _whole_ village, but that wasn't too surprising. Luke was the only son of Headman Fabre, after all, and even if he hadn't been reasonably well-liked all around, his father had provided enough food and drink to make everyone merry for the day regardless. The celebrations had started just before midday and had been going strong ever since. Luke sat at the centre of attention looking ecstatic and terrified all at once, but that wasn't really surprising either. It was a very _special_ birthday, after all, and Guy was coming to realize that nerves and excitement all rolled up together was the normal reaction for a Kimlascan at their coming-of-age.

The entire day was meant to herald Luke's passage to adulthood, and as such there was wine in the cup sitting before him, and he wore a man's trousers and coat instead of a child's tunic. And later on-- well. Later on, when the fires were banked and the wine jugs stoppered, Luke would make his choice. Guy had been a little unnerved by that part of the tradition, at first, but then he wasn't Kimlascan, no matter that he was pretending to be. Things had been done a little differently in Hod, not that many people other than him would remember that anymore.

There were rules to it, the most important being that the newly-made adult had to choose someone older, someone already an adult themselves. The next most important was that no one was allowed to question the choice or speak of it afterwards-- and strangely enough, no one seemed to want to. That had been perhaps the strangest part of it all for Guy-- after years spent among them, he still wondered at their complete lack of curiousity after the fact. If it were Hod, there would have been whispers for days, trying to figure out who had chosen whom. Here, it was simply not an issue-- on this day, if no other, a person was free to choose as they would, and the Kimlascans seemed content to respect the privacy of that freedom.

Guy had to admit that it really wasn't a bad system, in that regard.

The celebrations came to a close shortly after sunset, hurried along by the servants and attendants who doused the lights and whisked away the cups. Once his chores were completed Guy tucked himself into the tent that had been assigned to him, sighing wearily as he settled his head. It wasn't his usual bed, but he shared his room with one of the other servants, and tradition said that everyone had to sleep separately on this night so as to maintain at least the possibility of anonymity. Guy had lost the coin toss, and so he got to sleep on a bedroll in a tent instead of on his own cot. Not that he was really complaining-- he was far more capable of sleeping on the ground than old Pere, and he'd never minded camping out. If tradition hadn't said that he needed that screen of canvas between him and the rest of the village, he might have spread out his blankets under the open sky, instead.

Despite having been working since dawn in preparation for the celebration, Guy ended up somehow unable to sleep right away. Thinking too hard to sleep, perhaps-- not really thinking _of_ anything, but just thinking. He lay awake for long enough that the sounds of the village were completely stilled, long enough that the wildlife came up to fill the silence.

He was just starting to doze when something moved outside his tent, and the flap whispered open to reveal a dark shape. Guy sat up, squinting into the darkness until the flare of a light fonstone nearly blinded him, faint as it was. When the spots cleared from his vision he was stunned to see Luke standing there, looking hopeful.

The first thought that came to Guy was-- he could say no. It wasn't often done, and was generally discouraged, but he could. He _should_ say no, for so many reasons. But instead he found himself getting up and following silently as Luke led their way out of the village and into the woods beyond.

Guy's thoughts were racing, even as he was forced to turn the bulk of his attention to avoiding tree roots in the near-dark. He'd expected Luke to pick Van, honestly-- Van was his swordmaster, and despite his many duties elsewhere he had made a point to be present for the day's events. Luke quite obviously worshipped the man.

Van was who Guy himself had chosen, years past, for not entirely different reasons. Guy's coming-of-age celebration had been far less ostentatious, but everyone in the village had still gone out of their way to wish him well, and had held to the traditions. Guy was pretending to be Kimlascan, after all, which meant at least pretending to go along with their customs, no matter how strange and strangely embarrassing they might have been. And the day had given him an excuse to do what he had rather wanted to do anyway.

When he'd ducked into Van's borrowed tent that night, the man had met him with a sharp, hot smile. For Guy, the entire night was still a blur of being held down and overwhelmed, of lying there shaking inside and out. Neither of them had ever talked about it since-- they weren't supposed to, after all-- though he had never forgotten.

But instead of Van, it seemed that Luke wanted _him_. And Guy wasn't certain what to think about that. He had been the boy's personal servant for years now, of course, and he supposed Luke might have come to look up to him somewhat. Might have come to think of him as something like a friend. But he hadn't realized--

The thought occurred that he could use this as part of his revenge. On this night, he could do anything at all to Luke, and no one would be able to do anything about it. Luke probably wouldn't even protest. The purpose of the evening, according to the traditions, was to take the child and introduce them to the ways an adult might find pleasure, and Guy had heard enough murmured talk around the cookfires to know that people found their pleasure in so many varied ways. He could take that one step further, twist it so that _pleasure_ wasn't the point at all. It would be a subtle revenge on Fabre, but an effective one.

But when they reached the grove and Luke turned to him again, Guy found himself reaching out and putting a hand on Luke's shoulder, squeezing lightly in reassurance. Maybe it had something to do with the way Luke bit the corner of his lip as he oh-so-carefully reached out to unfasten Guy's vest; maybe it was the faint but practically permanent flush on his cheeks when Guy returned the favour, tugging at the buckles of the new coat. Maybe it was the memory of Luke's laugh and smile as he flung himself down from a tree branch, trusting Guy to catch him as he fell.

Whatever it was, it meant that instead of pushing Luke to the ground like he remembered Van doing to him, Guy went to his own knees instead, licking his lips as he leaned in. The helpless, needy sound Luke made as Guy took him in made a curl of hot satisfaction grow in Guy's stomach.

They did just about everything it was possible for them to do in one night, and by dawn Guy had the aches to prove it. There was the first hint of light in the sky when he turned a bleary-eyed but grinning Luke towards the altar. He drew the little knife from beneath the stone and awkwardly gathered up Luke's hair. "How much?" he asked quietly.

"Mm-- cut it all," Luke said, surprisingly.

Tradition, again-- maybe in some long-ago age it was a symbol of adulthood to have short hair, but in recent years just as many of the men wore their hair long, as Van did. And some of the children had shorn hair more often than not, as a result of climbing trees with sticky sap. It had become symbolic, the act of cutting one's hair on this night, of shedding childhood and leaving it behind on that bare stone altar. Van had barely trimmed Guy's hair, those years before, but it was the motions that mattered, and Guy had always kept his hair shorter than Luke's anyway.

Guy firmed his grip and sawed with the knife, taking it uneven handful by handful until Luke's hair was ragged around his chin and the altar was piled with red. "It's not very good," he said critically, eyeing it, but Luke shrugged.

"They'll even it out for me later."

The walk back to the village seemed to take much longer, with both of them on the verge of exhaustion-- but sneaking back in was easy, since everyone was either asleep or fully willing to pretend to be so. Guy collapsed onto his bedroll and was out practically before the flap fell closed behind him.

He managed a few bare hours of sleep before someone was scratching at his tent flap and it was time to go about his work while pretending he hadn't been up all night-- there were enough people wandering around showing the aftereffects of too much wine that he stood a chance of blending in, at least. It was hard not to squirm in place, imagining everyone he met giving him knowing looks, but they really _didn't_ seem to wonder. The previous night was just another part of their lives, that one night where a person had total freedom to choose for themselves, whatever life threw their way later on. Luke would probably end up marrying Natalia, as had been planned for years, but last night-- that had been his.

Van gave Guy a narrow look when their paths crossed later that day, which Guy ignored-- Van had probably expected Luke to choose him, as well. And for a moment, Guy twinged at the opportunity for vengeance lost, wondering what Van might have had planned. But then Guy came out into the practice field carrying two wooden swords, and Luke shot him a sidelong, endearingly shy glance from under his freshly-trimmed hair, and Guy couldn't hold the disappointment.

After all, out of everyone in the village the night before, Luke had trusted _him_ the most. That had to be a kind of revenge in itself.


End file.
